THE CHAMPION AND THE KING
“Sing, O Muse, the destructive wrath of Achilles, son
of Peleus, which brought countless woes upon the Achaeans.”
--Homer.
Concobar Mac Nessa sat one day in his high chair, judging the Ultonians.
His great Council sat before him. In the Champion’s throne sat Fergus
Mac Roy. Before the high King his suitors gave testimony and his brehons
pleaded, and Concobar in each case pronounced judgment, clearly and
intelligently, briefly and concisely, with learning and with equity.
“Right glad am I, O Concobar,” said Fergus, “that thou art in the King’s
throne, and I where I sit. Verily, had I remained in that chair of
honour and distress, long since would these historians and poets and
subtle-minded lawyers have talked and rhymed me into madness, or into my
grave.”
Concobar made answer--“Dear foster-father, the high gods in their wisdom
have fashioned us each man to illustrate some virtue. To thee they have
given strength, courage, and magnanimity above all others; and to me,
in small measure, the vision of justice, and the perception of her
beautiful laws. A man can only excel in what he loves, and verily I love
well the known laws of the Ultonians.”
A great man just then entered the hall. His mantle was black. In the
breast of it, instead of a brooch, he wore an iron pin. He came swiftly
and without making the customary reverences. His face was pale, and his
garments torn, his dark-grey tunic stained with blood. He stood in the
midst and cried--
“O high King of the Ultonians, and you the wise men and sages of the
children of Rury, to all of you there is now need of some prudent
resolution. A great deed has been done in Ulla.”
“What is that?” said the King.
“The abduction of the Beautiful Woman by Naysi, son of Usna. Verily,
she is taken away and may not be recovered, for the Clan Usna came last
night with a great company to the dun and they stormed it in their might
and their valour, and their irresistible fury, and they have taken
away Deirdre in their swift chariots, and have gone eastwards to the
Muirnicht with intent to cross the sea northwards, and abide henceforth
with their prize in the land of the Picts and of the Albanah, beyond the
stormy currents of the Moyle.”
Fergus Mac Roy, when he heard that word, sat up with eyes bright-blazing
in his head. Dearer to him than all the rest were those sons of Usna,
namely--Naysi, Anli, and Ardane, and dearest of the three was Naysi,
who excelled all the youth of his time in beauty, valour, and
accomplishments.
“Bind that man!” cried Concobar. His voice rang terribly through the
vast chamber. Truly it sheared through men’s souls like a dividing
sword.
His guards took the man and bound him. “Lead him away now,” said
Concobar, “and stone him with stones even to the parting of body with
soul.”
The man was one of Deirdre’s guard.
A great silence fell upon the assembly after that and no man spoke, only
they looked at the King and then again at the Champion, and, as it were,
questioned one another silently with their eyes. It was the silence
behind which run the Fomorh, brazen-throated and clad with storm. Well
knew those wise men that what they long apprehended had come now to
pass, namely, the fierce and truceless antagonism of the King and of the
ex-King. Well they knew that Concobar would not forgive the Clan Usna,
and that Fergus Mac Roy would not permit them to be punished. Therefore,
great and mighty as were the men, yet on this occasion they might be
likened only to cattle who stand aside astonished when two fierce bulls,
rending the earth as they come, advance against each other for the
mastery of the herd. In the high King’s face the angry blood showed as
two crimson spots one on either cheek, and his eyes, harder than steel,
sparkled under brows more rigid than brass. On the other hand, the face
of the Champion darkened as the sea darkens when a black squall descends
suddenly upon its sunny and glittering tides, wrinkling and convulsing
all the face of the deep. His listlessness and amiability alike went
out of him, and he sat huge and erect in his throne. His mighty chest
expanded and stood out like a shield, and the muscles of his neck,
stronger than a bull’s, became clear and distinct, and his gathering ire
and stern resolution rushed stormfully through his nostrils. The King
first spoke.
“To the man who has broken our law and abducted the child of ill omen, I
decree death by the sword and burial with the three throws of dishonour,
and if taken alive, then death by burning with the same, and if
he escapes out of Erin, then sentence of perpetual banishment and
expatriation.”
“He shall not be slain, and he shall not be burned, and he shall not be
exiled. I say it, even I, Fergus, son of the Red Rossa, Champion of the
North. Let the man who will gainsay me show himself now in Emain Macha.
Let him bring round the buckle of his belt.”
His eyes, as he spoke, were like flames of fire under a forehead dark
crimson, and with his clenched fist he struck the brazen table before
his throne, so that the clang and roar of the quivering bronze sounded
through all the borders of Ulla.
“I will gainsay thee, O Fergus,” cried the King, “I am the guardian and
the executor of the laws of the Ultonians, and those laws shall prevail
over thee and over all men.”
“All laws in restraint of true love and affection are unjust,” said
Fergus, “and the law by which Deirdre was consigned to virginity was the
unrighteous enactment of cold-hearted and unrighteous men.”